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ONE LAST POST ... For my mom
My mom is gone. In a span of less than 15 years, I went from being the granddaughter of a vibrant 94 year old to being the eldest in the family.
In a manner of speaking, with one final breath, I became both an orphan and The Family Matriarch and it is heartbreaking.
My grandmother died in March of 2006, just before I stepped into the maze of learning I had invasive lobular breast cancer. While I was still on chemotherapy, my dad was diagnosed with an early stage lung cancer. In July of 2007, he died of complications from the chemotherapy. His death was likely related to the many surgeries he endured for unrelated issues, weakening him in ways none of us could understand. One month after his death, my mom was diagnosed with a second primary breast cancer. Her first diagnosis, at age 49, was in 1987.
Many of you know already know my messy family medical history with breast cancer. My mom was a two-time five-year survivor. Until she wasn't. In January of 2013, we learned her cancer had metastasized to her bone. It was believed, but never confirmed, the disease spread from the first, more aggressive cancer. In other words, it was a late metastasis. It was 26 years after her initial diagnosis. Or, it was from the second time. Regardless, she still hit that magic 5 year celebratory mark. Both times.
I question things that I should not question. We learned in May that the treatment she was on for 18 months was no longer working. In the midst of a pandemic, when a change in care was warranted, there was no way of having a productive discussion about next steps. She was routinely scanned every three to four months. When the scan in May was not good, our doctor called her. I was always there for those appointments but no one was permitted inside with patients and the discussion about next steps was not so much a discussion, but rather a phone call from the doctor explaining "this is what's next."
There would be no more targeted therapy. There would be no more oral medication. Next up was an infusion of a chemotherapy agent approved for use in 1996. The only thing mom did when this was discussed between her and the oncologist was ask him to spell the name of the drug they would be using. After she spoke to him, she called me.
I was conflicted. I didn't think that this path was necessarily the best path. In my heart and in my mind, I wanted to have a discussion about transitioning to palliative care. I had the opportunity to address this idea with the oncologist. He said he would put it on the table but having spent years seeing my mom each and every month, he knew her as well as anyone. "Your mom is going to want to do something." And I know he was right. So I stepped aside and watched with a heavy heart as it all played out.
The first chemotherapy beat her up badly. She was spiking fevers, she developed an infection, she had no appetite, she was dehydrated. She was in and out of the triage area on several separate occasions to be treated for a variety of issues. After the very first infusion, it took a month before they could attempt a second round with a 50% dose reduction. That, too, beat her up badly. She spent five days at my home after one triage visit where she was so weakened, it was unsafe for her to be alone. Either I would stay with her or she would stay with me.
In August, another scheduled scan showed she was not responding to the chemotherapy. After a series of discussions, I was granted an exception and allowed to accompany her for her visit. A clinical trial was offered and mom signed the consent. The next day, we learned she wasn't eligible for the trial. She was disheartened. I was annoyed. She met the primary eligibility criteria but the manner in which they would be measuring progression of disease was a problem. In my mind, now with an arsenal of knowledge about clinical trials, this was a systemic failure. It was a failure in the design of the trial. It was a failure by the team assessing her eligibility for not looking at her complete medical history (and yes, they had access to all of it) before offering the trial in the first place.
So, in the beginning of September, she began yet another cytotoxic agent. Another old drug. Where is all of the progress when the best that could be offered was a drug that was approved over fifteen years ago. Again, she was beaten up very badly. It took eight days for her to feel better. I was with her on September 16. I recorded the visit. I just listened to it the other day. She was glossing over things and I was interjecting with the things she seemed to have forgotten. I know it wasn't intentional on her part. The mind has a way of allowing us to think "It wasn't really that bad." But, it was. The doctor wisely opined to mom, "She's here to keep you honest."
Again, a dose reduction was put in place and September 16 was the very last day mom felt "normal."
She fell on October 3 and she died on October 19. She was laid to rest on October 28.
I saw her a couple of times before October 3rd, and I spoke to her every day. The morning of October 3rd, I called before 11AM to see how she was feeling. The day before, she told me she was regaining her energy a bit. I didn't think much of it when she didn't pick up the phone. I thought she might be in the shower believing her words the day before when she said she was feeling a little better each day. It was clear, however, she would not continue this regimen. She said she was done with chemo, but she also said, "If there's something not quite as harsh ..." and I let her trail off with her thoughts.
I knew we were ready to have that all important talk about quality of life as the single most essential component for what would come next.
After leaving the message on Saturday morning. I got distracted by a couple of things and hours went by before I saw my aunt's phone number come up on my phone. Both of my aunts went to mom's to get her out of the house. They found her on the floor, in her bedroom, barely conscious. Before calling 911, they called me. "Anne Marie, she's delirious. She's confused. We can't lift her." I'm sure that entire call, which felt like it was a very long time, was likely under a minute. "Call 911, and I'm on my way to the hospital. I'll be there before the ambulance arrives."
As I was heading to the hospital, a bit of a glitch occurred. The EMT's were planning to take her to a different hospital. My aunts were pleading with them. "Her daughter has all of her medical information. She's likely already at the other hospital." Again, my phone rings. First, I heard my aunt and then an unknown male, "This is EMT, Michael. What can you tell me about your mom?" I willed myself to disengage from the crippling fear and the emotional upheaval I was feeling. I began speaking in medical terms. Mid-sentence, I heard Michael call out to his team, "We're going to Huntington Hospital."
I waited at the ambulance bay and as soon as I saw the ambulance, I felt the tears falling. I blinked them back quickly as EMT Michael jumped out. "Anne Marie?" I identified myself as I watched them open the doors and remove my mom from the back. "Come with me," he said and I recall replying, "They aren't going to let me just walk in the trauma area. COVID and ..." He simply said, "Walk beside me and let's see what happens."
The doctor in the emergency trauma area was wonderful. As the team jumped into action, administering antibiotics and placing her in warming blankets, I learned she was septic and hypothermic. Her condition was grave. The doctor asked me what mom would want under the circumstances. Still in logic mode, I stopped her before she had to go into a lengthy explanation. "I need to sign a DNR. Please get that for me." Emotionally, that was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Logically, I was acting in accordance with mom's wishes, and as her legal proxy as laid out in documents both written, and based on many discussions.
The doctor continued to try to piece together how long she might have been on the floor. I knew she didn't answer the phone at 10:30AM but who spoke to her or saw her on Friday night. The best estimate? She was on the floor for possibly as long as 12 hours. Just the thought of that is heart wrenching. I remained by her bedside in the trauma bay most of the time, only being asked to sit in the waiting area when they were going to take her for additional scans and x-rays to see if she suffered any broken bones.
In no time, I was being called back into the trauma area. The technician who was bringing me back was saying things. It was just a jumble of words I couldn't comprehend. "Not the best news." "It's not good news." And, as I watched them scrambling to find a chair so I could sit down, my mind was screaming.
"They are going to say something awful. They are afraid you're going to faint or fall down in horror. This seeking a chair thing is taking too long."
No one said a word until they found a chair they deemed clean enough for me to sit upon. Suddenly, I was thrust into a world about which I knew nothing. I was hearing fragments of sentences. Hit her head, bleeding in the brain, NO - wait, bleeding between the brain, swelling. It was the neurosurgical nurse practitioner who was speaking to me. The on call neurosurgeon was on his way to the hospital.
And here I stood, at yet another decision point. Standing at the foot of my mom's bed, it didn't take a rocket scientist to see the precarious situation she was in. The monitor recording her body temperature was still 93 degrees. I tried whispering in her ear. She opened her eyes, barely. I am told she was telling the EMT's her name and her date of birth as they were placing her on the stretcher. Credit the medical teams who've treated her over the years. Those of you in medicine and those of you wearing that bracelet know exactly what I mean. It embeds itself into our brains.
The neurosurgeon arrived. With a DNR in place, they wanted me to consent to surgery. Specifically, a craniotomy. They explained this had to be done immediately. There was a substantial subdural hematoma on the left side of her head. It shifted her brain slightly. As I was trying to engage my critical thinking, I knew I was not capable of making a well-informed decision. While I felt no pressure, what I knew was that there was a sense of urgency attached to my decision. We barely discussed the possible outcomes of such a surgery. All I could grasp in that very moment was the gravity of my mom's immediate health issues which, with this news, just became exponentially worse. What I should have said to this surgeon who, in very poor taste, opted to share, "Well, we're surgeons, we like to cut," was this. DO YOU SEE THE DNR above the monitors? As IF I'd consent to emergency surgery using an on-call doctor on a Saturday night - and yes, all of that was racing through my mind before he decided to share his love of cutting.
I remember the surgeon asking me if mom was experiencing pain in her upper spine. I recall his astonishment when I told him she complained of no pain. He explained, based upon the scans, he would have expected she would be in terrible pain from what he saw. Ultimately, I told him I could not consent to any surgery in that moment. I recall telling him I believed in her current condition with all of the other confounding factors, I didn't see how it would be possible for her to survive three hours or more under general anesthesia. I clearly remember saying that I felt I would be the one signing her death certificate if I consented to the surgery. I think I mumbled something about seeing how the present circumstances play out before I could even consider what might come next.
Many family members were milling around the waiting room of the hospital as I paced between the trauma area and the waiting room. Everyone was masked, everyone was maintaining distance in the primarily empty waiting room. At some point after 8PM, the shift changed in the waiting area and I presume, also in the trauma area. Until that point, when I asked to go check on mom, the desk knew I was already at her bedside and they unlocked the doors. Now, we were being told we could not remain indoors. I could insert something in here about continuity of care after a shift change ... because I watched this same thing happen when my dad died, but I'll save that for my advocacy efforts when speaking to those who are equipped to effect meaningful change to benefit all patients. On this day, everyone left and went into the parking lot. I asked to see her before leaving so I could get an update from the medical team. Instead, they had a nurse come out to speak to my brother and I. She came out, told us they were waiting for the results of her COVID test which would be approximately four hours, after which, they would be bringing her to the floor. Because of the DNR, she would not be taken to the ICU.
Mom was in a hospital that was piloting a program in NYS to allow for visitors. They instructed me who to call in the morning to find out where she was, and I would be called if anything else was required of me. Frankly, I was waiting for a call to tell me she was gone. I'm sure I didn't sleep at all. When I called in the morning, I was told she was in the cancer wing at the hospital. They put me through to the nurse in charge of her care. I told her that I already arranged for her records to be sent to them the night before from her primary oncology team at Memorial Sloan Kettering. I told her they were faxed over and of course, they weren't on the floor. I gave her the fax number the hospital asked to have them sent to. I don't remember when I did this, but I do know it was in that time before she arrived at the hospital, I notified the emergency number at MSK so they could assemble whatever information they felt the hospital would need. I would learn over the next days, MSK recently began a pilot program, too. They worked with a third party to serve as an information bridge. Mom's medical info was flowing bi-directionally between the community oncology group who has privileges in the hospital and the team at MSK. Every single afternoon, I got a call from a nurse at MSK to assure me they were updated on everything.
When I spoke to the nurse on Sunday, I explained there were three other siblings who wanted to see mom. I knew COVID restrictions only allowed for one visitor each day. There would be no swapping in and out. The nurse granted special visitation rights because her situation was critical. We all arrived at the same time. I had copies of the most recent sets of labs so they could see how everything had been trending over the past couple of weeks and I had a written report of a head CT done in June. I brought them with me. After the desk confirmed with the nurse that we would be allowed to tag in and out, I was the first one on the floor. I spoke to her nurse and gave her the records. She told me what was going on and then said I should go into mom's room. She told me I was going to be as shocked as she was, that from the early morning when we spoke until now, mom had woken up. She told me she was awake, "Just go in and see for yourself."
I walked into the room and mom was up in the bed with a food tray in front of her. Each of us had a million questions for the other. I was able to answer hers. She wasn't able to answer any of mine. She told me she opened her eyes and knew she was in the hospital but didn't remember how she got there. Does anyone know I'm here? How did I get here? Your brother is upstate ... I explained to her that she was brought in an ambulance. That seemed to stun her. I asked her if she remembered anything. It was clear she had no memory of falling. She didn't remember if she was in bed or in the recliner where she would often sit before getting into bed. I could see her doing mental gymnastics and I simply asked, "What is the last thing you remember doing yesterday?" When she couldn't recall, I let it go and when I went downstairs to switch with one of my siblings, I told them to gently try to discourage her if she started trying to press herself, to will herself, to remember what happened. My horror at the the thought of her lying on the floor for hours somehow dissipated knowing she wasn't there trying to grab for a phone, or perhaps was calling out for help. I know if we didn't have this conversation, my mind would be in a very dark place for many years. Grateful.
The resident in charge of her care came in and asked to speak with me in the hallway. I refused. I told her that it was clear my mom was lucid, understood where she was, and that she had the right to be involved in anything she wanted to say. My mom, at this point, didn't know about the DNR or, more importantly, about the head injury. I began. I told my mom she was in very bad shape the night before. I told her I signed a DNR. She looked confused. I told her, "Mom, if your heart stops, they aren't going to do anything to restart it. Is that what you still want? I can have them tear that up, but I need you to tell me what you want. Last night, you couldn't tell us." She just sort of shrugged and gave me no clear answer.
Then the resident explained she suffered a bleed in between her brain and her skull. I filled in the information as I could see she wasn't able to fully comprehend any of this. I told her we would talk to a neurosurgeon that afternoon and together, we would decide what to do. When the neurosurgical NP came into the room, I was downstairs. My sister was in the room. She asked the NP to let her get me on a FaceTime call. Instead, the NP told her to sit tight and she came downstairs to bring me up so both of us could be in the room with mom as she explained what would happen. We were told the bleeding seemed to have stopped and told us this was very much a day to day situation. She explained what surgery would entail in great detail and then suggested an option that was much better for mom to accept. We were all in agreement. In about three weeks, the blood would begin to break down, some would possibly be absorbed by her body and what remained could then be drained using a small burr hole.
Over the next ten days, we took turns visiting mom. She was awake. She was trying to eat. They were doing physical therapy. The community oncologist saw her daily. They were fighting to discharge her and we were pushing back on that. At one point, my mom was telling other siblings she wanted to go to a rehab facility. I got on the phone with her and very carefully explained that suggestion was simply not an option. I told her we couldn't ensure her safety from COVID in a rehab facility, and that she would have family and professional help round the clock in her home. She wasn't happy about aides in her home until I assured her many times that there would NEVER be a time one of us wasn't also there. Again, she mentioned going to rehab and then, she realized it would be within a nursing home. I didn't have to say another word. I'll refrain from political commentary on what happened in NYS nursing homes. You can google it, and whatever you find, multiply by about a million. I personally, know many who have loved ones in nursing homes. The stories are horrific. She said that simply wasn't an option in the midst of a pandemic. I once again reassured her that we, all of us, were prepared to man her home and oversee her care 24/7 with an aide to help us.
Plans were in place for her to be discharged. Until ... I got a call from the same resident who didn't want to speak in front of mom explaining she pulled the discharge. She began talking about an infection and I asked her to explain. She didn't which I found a bit bizarre so I began guessing. "Based on what you're saying, it's either unresolved sepsis or it's C-Diff." Ultimately, I had to get my answers by calling the nurse who confirmed they were waiting for the results of a C-Diff test which, of course, was positive. I explained to those who would be the designated daily visitor the protocols for gloves, gowns, masks (and changing the mask upon leaving the room). We continued to ready her home for mom's eventual discharge - hospital bed and other necessary equipment was delivered. I went to her home after ordering gowns, gloves, and preparing bleach solutions and safety instructions to get the place in order. I recall the day I walked out knowing everything was in place. I knew everything was in order and this fleeting thought popped into my head: She's not coming home. I shoved it out of my head.
She was weak. She couldn't get out of the bed without the help of two aides. She was barely eating. On October 12 and 13, I was the designated visitor. During my visit on the 13th, she seemed to be much more tired than she'd been since the day after her arrival. When I was leaving, I spoke to her nurse. It was the same nurse, as luck would have it, who was caring for her that first day on the floor. All I had to say to her was that she seemed worse than she was any of the days, including that first day. She ran into the room with me. They began to administer fluids and the following morning, things began to decline rapidly.
An interim head CT showed the bleed stopped, the area of blood was significantly less and already being reabsorbed, her brain shifted back, slightly, to its more normal position. The morning of Wednesday, October 14, my phone began to blow up. She sounds "off," she was on the phone with her cousin when the nurse took the phone to tell her she was going for another head CT. I immediately called the nurse. I remember someone saying something about not knowing results for 24 hours. I knew that wasn't the case, not with imaging where they could see in real time what was happening. I knew if this wasn't good news, I'd know immediately.
The same neurosurgical NP who was helping us understand what had happened the day after mom's admission got on the phone with me. All she was able to say was that the bleed started again and the neurosurgeon would be calling me shortly. I don't think I had to wait more than five minutes.
The neurosurgeon began explaining what was happening. In this moment, I was grateful for all of the advocacy work I've done. Somehow, I was able to detach myself from one of the most emotionally charged moments of my life. I willed myself to engage all of my critical thinking skills. I listened as the surgeon began to explain everything. He was kind. He was compassionate. He stopped frequently to ask if I needed anything explained. He was definitely speaking in more medical terms but I suspect that was because he already had a heads-up regarding my health literacy skills.
I asked about the risks involved with the surgery. I asked about the outcomes. It took me less than 30 seconds to realize there was substantial risk. If she survived the surgery, I could expect my mom to have her skull open for many days to allow the swelling to reduce. If she survived that, I could expect an extremely high likelihood she would not be able to speak, or feed herself, or walk. He was basing this information on the location and the size of the bleed. He was also, I would later learn, basing this on his previous experiences in situations with people whose condition closely mimicked my mom's. Without consulting anyone in my family, I made a decision. This was not the way my mom would have wanted to spend the rest of her days. That was clear on her health care proxy although I wouldn't see that until many days later. In what can only be described as hilarious, the documents I needed while she was still alive: the power of attorney and the health care proxy were sealed by mom with her will and the trust she set up. Sealed like Fort Knox with what appeared to be an entire roll of duct tape. I was making decisions based upon old documents. Thankfully, when I did wrangle that folder open, her instructions were more extensive and incorporated every decision I was forced to make. Grateful.
I also knew, in the back of my mind, what was coming, sooner than anyone else may have realized. She was down the rabbit hole with the progression of her cancer. What no one but me knew was this. I had seen a brain scan from less than a year ago where it indicated there was a 50% chance the lesions they saw on a head CT were indeed brain metastases. It was the wording: Consistent with, likely, possibly and each had an associated percentage. The word used on mom's CT was the word that meant 50%. For months after seeing that, I chose the glass half full view. That means it's 50% chance NOT. In this moment, I took the realistic view. Remembering the doctor asking about the area in her neck, remember her primary oncologist telling me he'd get her to her next birthday (this was end of October, her birthday would come in early March), watching others in the last weeks or months of disease navigating through excruciating bone pain, the need for oxygen, it was easy for me to say I didn't want them performing the surgery.
It was only AFTER I made the decision that the surgeon validated my choice. He told me, from the perspective of the family members who opted for this surgery on behalf of their loved ones, every one of them regretted their decision. They didn't fully assess what reality would be after the surgery. He told me, particularly under the circumstances, "You made the most merciful decision FOR YOUR MOM." And that's the thing. I couldn't decide based upon what would make others happy. I had to give voice to my mom. What would she want and what he described is not what she would want.
Things moved very quickly over those next couple of hours. I was told that anyone who wanted to say goodbye should get there within the next 24 hours, and more likely, it would be best if they arrived within the next 12. "Things are going to deteriorate, and it's going to be rapid." I sent a group text - not the best means of communicating but certainly, in this instance, the most efficient. Immediate family converged on the hospital and thankfully, end of life protocols were in place and everyone was allowed in her room. She was barely conscious when I arrived. She willed herself to open her eyes when I told her one of her grandsons just came to see her. She greeted him by name. Then one final time when another grandson came. She opened her eyes, she looked at him and she said what would be her last words. "Hiya .... " and she greeted him by name. On the afternoon of October 14th, she uttered her last words and slipped into a peaceful slumber.
The next five days were torturous for all of us. Everyone that needed to be there was there. There were no tubes, there were no monitors beeping. She was surrounded by the love of family. It was explained to me that engaging the hospice team was possible but not recommended. There is some quirky thing with the Medicare rules. If the event she didn't die within a specified number of days, the hospital would be forced to move her to a facility. It could be any facility where there was an available bed. She was in a hospital that is five minutes from my new home and close enough to everyone else family, too. The facility might be an hour or more away. And, the visiting policy might not be as accommodating.
I knew it would be important to mom to receive the last sacrament of the Catholic Church. Her parish priest refused to come. I was livid. He personally knew my mom and she made many donations to the church right up until she fell. With the help of the hospital chaplain, she arranged for a priest from a different parish to be at my mom's beside within an hour of calling. I will be eternally grateful to the chaplain and the priest. With that off my head, I was thrust into a new role. Once again, I found myself using skills I'd learned "on paper" in a real world situation. I became the head of mom's hospice care.
Specifically, with the help of the social worker on the floor and the nursing staff including the nursing supervisor, I summoned everything I could from things I've learned along the way about end of life protocols. I encouraged everyone to speak to her. We stroked her arm gently so she might feel our physical presence. I wrote down each time morphine was administered so I could start asking them again at the three and a half hour mark. Only once did the girl at the desk push back with "It's too soon." Fortunately, the nursing supervisor happened to be at the desk and quickly overrode that response, telling her to call the doctor. I was determined my mom would be given morphine "on the clock."
She died just before 3PM on the 19th of October in the midst of the worst public health crisis. I was seated beside her. We were playing music as she drew her last breath. It was her music, doo-wop era music of the late 50's and early 60's. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know why she was holding on after five days of being in a non-responsive state. I was holding her hand. She was in no pain. I kept telling her it was ok, I would be ok, Daddy is waiting for you, we will all be ok. For five long days. This day, her breathing was beginning to get shallow. I could see the end was near as her breathing began to slow. I am grateful she died while I was there. Had it happened in the middle of the night, I know they would have told me it was peaceful but in my mind, I suspect I would have gone down a dark hole. "Sure they're telling me it was peaceful, but she was alone and it all likelihood, she might have been gone for an hour or more before they even realized she was gone." So, yes, gratitude that I was at her side.
I suspect she knew the end was coming before she fell on that fated night. During one of our many conversations, she told me she didn't want a traditional mass. She wanted to be cremated. She wanted a graveside service. Her ashes would be interred with my dad, next to her brother, beside my dad's parents. She told me we could hold a memorial mass in her honor IF and when we wanted. So, I began making more decisions.
And, as I was making these decisions and funeral arrangements, yet another monkey wrench got thrown into the mix. Because hers was a death that was considered an accident, after the funeral director already removed her body, the medical examiner refused to sign off on the death certificate. The doctor at the hospital called. The funeral director called. Each explained that I would be called to the ME's office for a conversation. They were doing their job and thankfully, my emotions were sealed in a compartment. I wasn't angry. I wasn't upset. I was just numb and would jump through whatever hoops they asked of me so that I could lay my mom to rest. At one point, I remember looking up saying, "I hope you're getting a kick out of this, mom."
The Medical Examiner called me. She was kind but firm. "Tell me about your mom's health." I asked her where she wanted me to start and I remember her saying I should start at the very beginning and she would tell me if I should fast forward. So, I began, "In 1987 ...." and I told the whole story. The early diagnosis of cancer at 49 years old found on her first mammogram and methodically went through all of it concluding with what happened when we learned she was no longer responding to treatment in May and how those last ditch efforts just kept making her weaker and weaker. We spoke for at least an hour. At the end, she thanked me and said she would be releasing her.
Fortunately, NY and specifically, Long Island, was at one of the lowest COVID positivity rates when this happened. We were outdoors at the cemetery and there were restrictions on the number of people who could be at outdoor "events." But, I had no control over who knew about the service and when I arrived at her grave with the funeral director, I looked out at many groups of people standing in smaller groups. Everyone seemed to be in their own bubble of safety. Afterwards, I was able to piece together that there was about 80 people scattered around, standing in the pouring rain, as prayers were said and mom was laid to rest with my dad.
My brother began building a special garden on his property, a project he began during those five days in October and is an ongoing project. After she took her last breath, we were on a group text where he was sending pictures to all of us. The garden is beautiful. I told him I was going to order a stone but I had to think carefully about what should be etched on the stone. And then, I remembered. The song that was playing when mom drew her last breath would be perfect. I ordered the stone in October. It arrived in April.
We emptied her home and it was recently sold. Impulsively, as I left the closing, again, with COVID restrictions still in place, I was the only family member present, I realized I was very near the cemetery. I drove to her gravesite. When I was leaving, I was stunned at the exit as I was flipping around the radio stations to hear this blaring from my car speakers ...
It's impossible for me to NOT think she was watching over me as I put all of her affairs in order. So, every night when I see the moon shining down, I will forever remember my mom.
Not a single day goes by when I'm not thinking about her, missing her, grabbing the phone to call her. I have had the support of many of you and for that, yes, grateful beyond words.
Yesterday was eight months that she left this earth. And today is Father's Day. It has taken me this long to share all of these details and to say for certain, this will be the last post I will make.
My chemobrain is resolved.
My marriage is dissolved. Finally, and I'm happy and free.
My reconstructive implants have been redone - twice (November of 2019 when mom took care of me and redone in February of 2020 when I had lots of people jump in to help with my recovery).
I took back the only name that matters, the name I was born with.
I bought a new home and moved in right before the world as we know it came to a screeching halt.
And throughout all of that, I said goodbye to my mom with gratitude for the life she gave me and with even more gratitude for the way hers ended. On her terms. Without pain.
My mom and dad will always be the wind beneath my wings. With this blog, my mom was always my biggest cheerleader. So, it is fitting to say ....
With this post, I bid farewell to this chapter of my life. I'm still around - I'm on twitter, I'm on Facebook although I haven't checked that platform at all since right after I had to login to my mom's account, and my email address is on this page, too. I'm entrenched in research advocacy and I'll continue doing that for as long as I am able to add value at the tables where I am seated.
This blog was the vessel that opened up so many doors but those of you who read my rants, cheered with me, cried with me, laughed with me, got outraged alongside me. Each of you has carried me to this place where I can now officially turn the page and begin writing the next chapter. The blog needed closure and this homage to my mom seemed the best way to do just that.
Thank you all for helping me in ways you might never fully appreciate.
With love to all who find their way here,
Posted by AnneMarie at 3:55 PM No comments:


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Break a sweat in our clean and inspiring fitness studio, complete with treadmills, a stationary bike, an Elliptical, free weights, a universal weight machine and a floor-to-ceiling mirror so you can watch your posture. There is also plenty of floor space to keep up your regular strength training routine, as well as two flat-screen TVs.
Just because you're out of town doesn't mean you have to be out of touch - or pay to stay connected! Enjoy free Wi-Fi in your room or suite and anywhere on our Best Western Plus Emerald Isle Hotel property. If your personal tablet, phone or laptop needs to recharge, feel free to check your email or surf the net on our guest computer, located in the lobby.
Our designated dog-friendly rooms mean we provide comfortable accommodation for you and your treasured pet, as well as an allergy-free stay experience for our guests travelling without furry friends. For a minimal $30 nightly fee*, you can share your room with your pet and rest easy knowing your entire travel party is comfortable and close by. To book one of our pet friendly rooms, please call the hotel directly. Note availability is limited and must be confirmed prior to booking. *Fee is based per pet. **Maximum 2 dogs per room and $150 per week max. Only available for pets 80 lbs and under.
It's the little things that make a big difference! You'll love our friendly hotel staff and convenient "extras" designed to make your stay with us a breeze, including guest laundry facilities, a live 24-hour flight information screen in the lobby, express check-out and complimentary Wi-Fi, daily newspapers and free parking with your stay. Our hotel is also smoke-free, with designated smoking areas outdoors.


Developing With Sales Tax: What's the Rate?
Hi there. Welcome to Avalara's new developer network. You'll find API documentation, and the seeds of a developer community that will include video, forums and lots more to come.


You must go to the hearing. If you do not go to the hearing, your temporary order will expire and you will have to start the process over. If the abuser has received notice of the hearing, but does not show up, the judge can continue with the hearing and grant you an order that lasts for up to one year.2 If the abuser was not able to be served, the judge may order a new hearing date and extend your temporary restraining order.
Although you do not need a lawyer, it is often helpful to have one, especially if the abuser is going to object to the order being issued or if the abuser has a lawyer. Go to our MA Finding a Lawyer page for legal referrals. If you show up to court and the abuser has a lawyer and you do not, you may ask the judge for a "continuance" to set a later court date so you can have time to find a lawyer for yourself. Even if you cannot find an attorney to represent you, you may want to try to talk to an attorney to get advice as to what types of evidence you can bring to court and other ways to represent yourself. You can also go to our Preparing Your Case page for more information when representing yourself.


Everyone loves a bit of bunting! Great for a party or just brightening up a corner in the kitchen, garden on living room. You'll be hooked in no time once you realise how simple it is!
As part of this years Moseley festival programme, we are giving you a chance to come along and try out a bit of sewing in our lovely studio.
The price is per one adult and child - if you would like to bring more than one child along then please book two spaces. Children must be accompanied by an adult for the full duration of the workshop. Bookings without children also welcome!
During the class you will make a 1.5m length of bunting with around 10 mini flags.
Moseley Festival has been run by members of the local community for over 40 years. This year's festival will be on 4-7 July 2019, and the bunting workshop we're hosting is just one of the events on offer. As well as the street fair on the Saturday, there will be music, comedy and dance events, as well as an art trail in the park. Follow Moseley Festival on Facebook or Twitter, or visit www.moseleyfestival.org.uk to find out more.
This class is suitable for beginners or those looking for a fun quick project.
All materials and fabric needed to make bunting. If you would prefer to bring your own fabric or purchase alternative fabric from the shop you are more than welcome.


My name is Peter Millard, and I am re-applying for JSF Membership.
I have been an active contributor to the jabber community since 1999. I have been on the JSF council since the JSF's inception in 2001. In the pre-JSF days, I was a primary contributor to the evolvoing core Jabber protocol, as well as wrote the first native win32 Jabber client WinJab. Since then I have helped review, and mold many of the protocols that we have today.
I am the primary author of the Exodus client, wrote the JabberCOM Win32 library. As the manager of the Jabber, Inc. core XMPP server team, I oversee and help design all of the server products that Jabber, Inc. produces.
I am currently one of the primary admins for all of the jabber.org, xmpp.org infrastructure. This includes maintaining the jabber.org public jabber server as well as DNS, mail, and web services.
Throughout the life of the JSF, I have written, and co-authored many JEPs. As a member of the council, I have reviewed, commented, and contributed against every JEP submitted.
I am reapplying to the JSF because I'd like to continue providing technical assistance to the council as well as to continue my admin work for the infrastructure team.
This page was last modified on 24 July 2010, at 10:54.


text:
Syldavia (en las ediciones en francés, Syldavie) es un reino imaginario que aparece en la serie de historietas Las aventuras de Tintín, del dibujante y guionista belga Hergé. Este país aparece en 5 títulos: El cetro de Ottokar, Objetivo: la Luna, Aterrizaje en la Luna, El asunto Tornasol y Tintín y el lago de los tiburones.

Localización y etimología del topónimo
Se ha argumentado que por similitudes fónicas, históricas, geográficas y culturales Syldavia vendría a ser una mezcla (o se encontraría situada entre) las dos regiones rumanas de Transilvania (Transylvanie) y Moldavia.

Datos generales
Syldavia, llamada también "el Reino del Pelícano Negro" es una monarquía centroeuropea que tiene, la primera vez que Tintín lo visita, 642.000 habitantes. El país lo conforman dos grandes valles (el del río Vladir), y su afluente, el Moltus que se encuentran en Klow, la capital (122.000 habitantes). El relieve es muy accidentado, y una buena parte del territorio lo ocupa el macizo montañoso de Zmylpathes, rico en uranio, razón por la cual se construye en él la estación espacial que llevará a los protagonistas de la serie a la Luna.

Existen numerosos balnearios de aguas termales y sulfurosas. Los centros principales de esta actividad son Klow (enfermedades cardíacas) y Kragoniendin (dolencias reumáticas).
La tierra es fértil, lo que favorece el cultivo de trigo, y rica en agua, siendo el agua mineral la bebida nacional y primer producto en su comercio exterior. Aparte de esto, Syldavia exporta caballos, trigo, madera y violines. La moneda del país es el khôr y la compañía aérea, Syldair.

La bandera de Syldavia es de oro, con un gran pelícano de sable con las alas extendidas en su centro. Muestra influencias mutuas con la bandera de Montenegro o la del Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico.

Idioma syldavo

A pesar de la aparente cultura eslava del país, el idioma es germánico, aunque se escribe con caracteres cirílicos. Esto es así porque Hergé inventó la lengua syldava basándose en el dialecto de Marols del neerlandés hablado en Bruselas, mezclado con palabras francesas y de otras lenguas y fusionando y añadiendo letras a las palabras para despistar a los lectores. El idioma inventado por Hergé tiene por ello bastante coherencia, y de su análisis se deduce que el lema nacional syldavo, Eih bennek, eih blavek, significa literalmente "Aquí estoy y aquí me quedo" (Hier ben ik, hier blijf ik en neerlandés) y no "Quien con él se roza, con él se pincha", que es la errónea traducción que da el folleto turístico que Tintín hojea en el avión que le lleva a Syldavia por primera vez, y que de hecho, no es más que la divisa de la región de Lorena, que hace referencia a su emblema, el cardo de Nancy (con la divisa en latín de Carlos el Temerario, NON INULTUS PREMOR que viene a ser quién me toca, se pincha). Dicho error puede venir de la tentativa de traducción de la expresión en el contexto francés (en efecto, en el folleto del avión se cita a continuación la divisa inglesa y de la muy noble orden de la jarretera honny soit qui mal y pense)

Monarquía
La dinastía que lleva gobernando Syldavia desde 1127 es una de las más antiguas de Europa, los Ottokar, que no deben confundirse con los Ottokar Přemysl, duques y reyes de Bohemia. El rey, Muskar XII, ha sido uno de los mejores monarcas del pequeño Reino de los Balcanes.

Historia
En el siglo VI fue invadida por los eslavos (anteriormente estaba habitada por tribus nómadas de desconocido origen) y desde el X permaneció bajo dominio turco durante doscientos años. Los eslavos se hicieron con el control del territorio en 1127, dirigidos por el caudillo Hveghi, en la batalla de Zileherum, que más tarde se convertiría en el rey Muskar I. Esta batalla tuvo lugar en el valle del río Moltus, cerca de Zileheroum, la capital turca de Syldavia, que tras la victoria pasaría a llamarse "Klow". Sus sucesores (en especial su hijo, Muskar II) eran reyes faltos de energía hasta el punto de que la vecina Borduria se apoderó del país en 1195. En 1275, el barón Almazut expulsó a los ocupantes bordurios y fue coronado rey con el nombre de Ottokar I. Sin embargo, el reino no se unificó y pacificó hasta el reinado de Ottokar IV. Este rey tuvo un altercado con el barón Staszrvitch, del que se defendió golpeándole con su cetro, al tiempo que le decía: Eih bennek, eih blavek, es decir, "Quién con él se roza, con él se pincha", que se convertirá en lema nacional. Desde entonces, la tradición establece que, para conservar su trono, el rey debe aparecer en público mostrando el cetro en las celebraciones de la fiesta nacional del día de san Wladimiro. Dicho cetro, llamado el Cetro de Ottokar IV, perteneciente a las joyas de la corona syldava, se halla en el Castillo de Kropow, antigua residencia de los reyes syldavos situada a las afueras de Klow.

Cocina
La cocina Syldava está relacionada generalmente con la comida del centro y este de Europa. Podemos ver en el restaurante al que acude Tintín blini, hierbas y muchos salchichones. Un elemento importante es el hecho de que el país es generalmente poco aficionado a las bebidas alcohólicas para desesperación del Capitán Haddock. Se menciona que el plato principal del país es el szlaszeck, la pata trasera de un perro en salsa picante (posiblemente se trate de una broma del dueño del restaurante y en realidad sea cordero). El szlaszeck que toma Tintín aparece con una guarnición de champiñones y ensalada.

Tintín y Syldavia

La primera visita de Tintín a Syldavia tiene que ver con esta historia, y se narra en El cetro de Ottokar. Borduria intenta anexionarse Syldavia y para ello trama un complot dirigido a hacer desaparecer el cetro, para que así el rey Muskar XII no pueda mostrarlo el día de san Wladimiro y pierda el trono. La obra está escrita en 1939, pocos meses después de que Alemania se anexionara Austria. La Borduria de Mustler (nombre que recuerda a Mussolini y Hitler) se parece en más de un aspecto a la Alemania nazi.

En esta aventura Tintín se encuentra por primera vez con la cantante Bianca Castafiore, que se convertirá en un personaje recurrente de la serie.

Tintín volverá a Syldavia en Objetivo: la Luna (1953), acompañado por el capitán Haddock para participar en el programa espacial de vuelo tripulado a la Luna emprendido por las autoridades syldavas y del que el profesor Silvestre Tornasol es uno de sus más insignes técnicos. Tanto en este álbum como en el que continúa la aventura, Aterrizaje en la Luna (1954), sólo vemos de Syldavia las montañas del macizo de Zmylpathes en el que se encuentra la estación espacial.

En El asunto Tornasol (1956) la aparición de Syldavia es más compleja. En la primera parte de la aventura participan agentes secretos syldavos que intentan impedir a sus enemigos bordurios el secuestro del profesor Tornasol, autor de un curioso invento que el dictador de Borduria desea obtener a cualquier precio para usarlo como arma. Finalmente, los bordurios consiguen su objetivo y Tintín y Haddock, con la ayuda puntual de Bianca Castafiore, deben ir a Borduria a liberar al profesor. El Reino de Syldavia sólo aparece cuando, liberado Tornasol, consiguen cruzar la frontera entre ambos países a bordo de un carro de combate bordurio. Borduria, en este álbum es gobernado por un régimen prosovietico, mientras que Syldavia es una Monarquía Democrática de corte europeo occidental.

Syldavia en el arte
En Tintín y el lago de los tiburones (1972), película de dibujos animados de la que luego se hizo una historieta (el autor de ambas cosas es el dibujante Greg), parte de la acción se desarrolla también en el Reino de Syldavia.

Existe una canción del grupo español La Unión titulada Sildavia, sobre este país de ficción

Enlaces externos
 Artículo sobre el sistema político de Syldavia
 Agencia de viajes "Aire Palombia"
 Posible localización de Syldavia (francés e inglés)

Fuentes
Historias de Tintin en las que aparece Syldavia:
 Le Sceptre d'Ottokar (El cetro de Ottokar, 1939)
 Objectif Lune (Objetivo: la Luna, 1953)
 On a marché sur la Lune (Aterrizaje en la Luna, 1954
 L'Affaire Tournesol (El asunto Tornasol, 1956)

Referencias

Véase también
 Idioma syldavo
 Borduria
 Idioma bordurio
 Tintín
 Hergé

Lugares de Tintín
Países europeos ficticios

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaWikipedia


text:
Projects => Build Reports => Topic started by: Guitarmageddon on September 22, 2013, 10:48:26 PM
Title: "The Master" (Fallout themed pedal)
Post by: Guitarmageddon on September 22, 2013, 10:48:26 PM
Here's a pedal built for a bassist who wanted a character from the original Fallout computer game.
(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l524/guitarmageddon9/TheMaster.jpg)
It's a combination of things, but at the core is my take on CJ's "Logan 5", which was derived from Tim Escobedo's "Thing Modulator", a pseudo ring modulator.
(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l524/guitarmageddon9/guts-8.jpg)
I've paired it with the LFO from the Shoot the Moon, which drives the frequency, and, as it's for a bassist, a clean blend of my own devising.
It's also got a pair of external LDRs, one to warp the frequency and the other is part of a feedback loop.
(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l524/guitarmageddon9/deet-1.jpg)
The etch was pretty tricky as, not only was the image pretty murky, it's an old game with pretty low-res graphics.
(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l524/guitarmageddon9/profile-1.jpg)
There's a flashing ultra-violet "eye" synced with the LFO.
Title: Re: "The Master" (Fallout themed pedal)
Post by: pickdropper on September 22, 2013, 10:51:18 PM
I almost ran my finger along the screen to feel the etch texture on the picture.
Looks great. I really like your new Codtone logo.
Post by: lincolnic on September 23, 2013, 01:55:38 PM
To quote the title of Shellac's new album: dude, incredible. Can we get a demo?
Post by: billstein on September 23, 2013, 01:59:45 PM
You're just going from strength to strength.
I agree with Dave about your logo. Very nice.
Post by: fendman on September 23, 2013, 03:38:28 PM
Thought Jimilee would have been here before me....lol. I have always liked these etches since Pandora's Box, and this one is no exception. Love that little blue UV light.
Great work as always
Thanks for all the kind words.
Quote from: lincolnic on September 23, 2013, 01:55:38 PM
Can we get a demo?
I didn't have it for very long, but 've made a little compilation of some of the noises it makes and a demonstration of the controls.
[ Invalid YouTube link ]
If anyone's interested, here's the basic circuit for the ring mod part. The feedback loop is done with a LDR (switchable) across pins 3 and 6 of the IC. The other LDR is on the outside lugs of the pot.
(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l524/guitarmageddon9/807ff283-41a5-4ab0-aae3-93a10146ecbe.jpg)
I've also got some spare LMC567, they can be a little tricky to find.
$2.50 each + $2 shipping for as many as you like. The more common LM567C is not a good substitute.
Love it. Great job, again!

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Y'all are gonna laugh at me, but one of my favorite things to do is to aimlessly walk around Walmart. Everyone has their thing – and that's my thing. I love to browse new products and get ideas for recipes. I don't always have the time to do this casually. Most of the time I'm running through there like my hair is on fire just trying to get what I need. But when I do have time to myself to casually stroll the aisles, I love it! So there's my confession. It is my relaxation and de-stresser.
So when I was walking around Walmart this weekend, I saw these new Tyson® 100% Whole Grain breaded chicken breast chunks. I had to back up my buggy and look again. There were two different kinds in the freezer section at my local Walmart. They had the whole grain breaded chicken chunks and the Tyson® Gluten Free breaded chicken nuggets. I immediately texted a photo to one of my good friends whose daughter can only eat gluten free and asked if she had seen these. Nearly every kid loves chicken nuggets and how convenient is this for her Momma?! She was so excited and thrilled to see these. They are wholesome and her daughter can eat them – score!
So I threw one of each of these into my buggy. Here's the lowdown on this new chicken from Tyson®!
The wheels started turning in my head with what I could make with them. Of course they are good all by themselves but my mind is always thinking about more. And as I walked down the international aisle of Walmart – an idea hit me.
I saw some sesame oil and crunchy rice noodles and I immediately thought this chicken would work perfect in my favorite oriental chicken salad. If you love to order this when you go out to eat, then you will absolutely love this recipe. The Tyson® Whole Grain breaded chicken breast chunks worked perfect in this. They cooked and browned up beautifully and taste so good! And the bonus? This dressing! It will become your new favorite!
Place Tyson Chicken Breast Chunks onto a foil-lined baking sheet (or spray with nonstick cooking spray.) Cook for about 15-20 minutes.
While the chicken chunks are cooking, start preparing your salad. In a large bowl, combine chopped romaine lettuce and shredded cabbage.
Then toss in shredded carrots, green onions and slivered almonds.
Top with mandarin oranges and crunchy rice noodles.
To prepare the dressing, whisk together the mayonnaise, rice wine vinegar, honey, dijon mustard and sesame oil. Note: Sesame oil has a very strong flavor so don't overdo it.
Once your chicken is cooked, take it out of the oven.
Then add cooked chicken to your prepared salad and pour dressing on top.
Or you can keep the dressing on the side and everyone can help themselves.
While the chicken chunks are cooking, start preparing your salad.
In a large bowl, combine chopped romaine lettuce and shredded cabbage.
To prepare the dressing, whisk together the mayonnaise, rice wine vinegar, honey, dijon mustard and sesame oil.
Once the chicken is cooked, take it out of the oven.
Then add cooked chicken to the prepared salad and pour dressing on top.
Sesame oil has a very strong flavor so don't overdo it.


East Goshen Mugshots: East Goshen PA Police Department Jail Arrest and Inmate Roster.
East Goshen Police Department Jail Inmate Roster.
Counties: Northampton County Jail Roster, Erie County Jail Roster, Dauphin County Jail Roster, Cumberland County Jail Roster, Lackawanna County Jail Roster, Washington County Jail Roster, Butler County Jail Roster, Beaver County Jail Roster, Monroe County Jail Roster, Centre County Jail Roster, Franklin County Jail Roster, Schuylkill County Jail Roster, Cambria County Jail Roster.
Cities: Norristown Jail Roster, Falls Jail Roster, Chester Jail Roster, Mount Lebanon Jail Roster, Warminster Jail Roster, Lower Makefield Jail Roster, Bethel Park Jail Roster, Radnor Jail Roster, Lower Macungie Jail Roster, Ross Jail Roster, Ridley Jail Roster, North Huntingdon Jail Roster, Williamsport Jail Roster, Tredyffrin Jail Roster, Cranberry Jail Roster, Shaler Jail Roster, McCandless Jail Roster, Upper Merion Jail Roster, Monroeville Jail Roster, Hampden Jail Roster, York PA Jail Roster, Plum Jail Roster, Spring Jail Roster, Whitehall Jail Roster, Easton Jail Roster, Springettsbury Jail Roster, Horsham Jail Roster, Upper Dublin Jail Roster, Exeter Jail Roster, Lower Providence Jail Roster, Lebanon Jail Roster.


Xserver listens for TCP on port 6000 by default. If you really want to have that, you can change from a secure default into a less secure default.
However, the default should not be to listen to anything at all since that is an attack vector which can be used to crack an OpenMoko?.
secure_etc_X11_Xserver.patch (275 bytes) - added by RuiSeabra 11 years ago.
Since it no longer polls on the TCP port, it also reduces a tiny amount of battery usage.
I hope your proposed security-related improvements get taken seriously. Not running everything as root will be nice as well.
Julian please take a look.


What Convinced Gregor Mendel to Use the Garden Pea?
Gregor Mendel used the common garden pea in his experiments the results of which became the basis of the science of genetics. It was not by accident that it became his experimental plant. Even from the start, he was already aware that the right experimental plants must be used in order to avoid the "risk of questionable results". Consequently, he developed a criteria in the selection of testplants for his study.
3. The hybrids and their offspring must maintain fertility in the fullest in the succeeding generations. Stated another way, both partial and complete sterility must be inexistent. This is because the outcome of the hybridization needs to be strictly monitored from generation to generation.
Thus he procceeded in identifying the most qualified experimental plants. He focused on the members of the family Leguminosae (now alternatively called Fabaceae) because of their unique floral structure. Their flowers are clearly visible and the parts, particularly the pistil and the stamen, are easily distinguishable. Finally, he identified the genus Pisum to have possessed the essential qualities.
For two years he preexperimented on 34 varieties of garden pea (mainly Pisum sativum) which he obtained from several seedsmen with more or less distinct characteristics. However, only 22 exhibited constant characteristics. From these he selected the experimental plants (7 P1 plants and 7 P2 plants) for his studies that differed in seven characters.
7. Although the cross pollination methods are somewhat complicated, the results are largely successful. The procedure consisted of the opening of the young bud, removal of the keel, removal of the stamen using forcep (emasculation), and dusting of the stigma with the pollen from the specified parent plant.
First, he said that insects, notably the beetle Bruchus pisi, open the flowers of garden pea to lay eggs inside. In so doing, some pollen adhere to their tarsi. This could lead to unintended pollination of some flowers that they may visit. However, he did not mention thrips and this, Prof. W. Bateson noted as he edited the translation of Mendel's original paper for the Royal Horticultural Society of London, was an error.
Second, he mentioned that in rare cases certain parts of a flower wither resulting to the partial exposure of the reproductive organs. This can lead to the introduction of foreign pollen.
Third, the keel may not be fully developed which may also partially expose the reproductive organs.
Fourth, it was observed that sometimes the pollens are not fully developed. In this case the pistil gradually lengthens until the tip of the stigma protrudes from the keel.
However, Mendel observed that out of more than 10,000 plants examined, there occured only a few cases of contamination or "false impregnation" of foreign pollen.
Note: Despite the meticulousness of Gregor Mendel, it is possible that his selection of garden pea as experimental plant was also attended by some element of luck. As already mentioned in the main page, he attempted to show that his derivations are also true to other plants. If only it became successful, it would have possibly lead to the timely recognition of his findings. Unfortunately, he selected the hawkweed as his second experimental plant, an apomict . As such, the offsprings are clones of the plant from which the seeds are derived. There is no fertilization and therefore only the traits of the maternal parents are transmitted (click to read the significance of apomixis in plant propagation).
MENDEL G. 1865. Experiments in Plant Hybridisation. (Translation of the Royal Horticultural Society of London). Retrieved Nov. 2, 2013 from https://ia600409.us.archive.org/15/items/experimentsinpla00mend/experimentsinpla00mend.pdf.


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I hope they are wonderful neighbors. More people should get out and welcome new neighbors like in the good ole days. Our society is just too hectic and self-absorbed.
William, Let' s hope they appreciate the visit and the warm welcome to the community.
I used to do that with the rental properties across the street, but found, despite a warm welcome, most didn't ever interact. I gave up. Bad attitude and I should shake it.
That is a good idea and the new neighbors will appreciate it.
Nice job Bill, you are doing a great job of keeping the neighborhood friendly.


text:
Esdeveniments
Països Catalans
 5 de gener, Cerdanya: S'autoritza el funcionament del camp d'aviació de la Cerdanya com a aeròdrom privat.
 26 de setembre, Barcelona: Detenció de Salvador Puig i Antich.
 1 de desembre, Barcelona: Lluís Maria Xirinacs i Damians inicia una vaga de fam davant de la presó model per reclamar l'amnistia dels presos polítics antifranquistes que durarà 42 dies.

Resta del món
 1 de gener, Europea: Dinamarca, Irlanda i el Regne Unit entren a formar part de la Comunitat Econòmica Europea, de manera que el nombre d'Estats membres augmenta de sis a nou.
 27 de març, Hollywood, Califòrnia, EUA: Marlon Brando rebutja l'Oscar que li concedeix l'Acadèmia de les Arts i les Ciències Cinematogràfiques.
 11 de març, Buenos Aires, Argentina: Héctor José Cámpora, candidat del front justicialista d'alliberament (coalició de peronistes, conservadors, demòcrates-cristians) arriba al capdavant de la presidencial a l'Argentina. La junta ho declara oficialment elegit el 30 de març.
 4 d'abril, Nova York, Estats Unitsː S'innaugura el Word Trade Center.
 9 d'abril: Israel llença l'operació Primavera de Joventut al Líban amb la finalitat d'assassinar importants dirigents de l'OLP com a reacció a la Massacre de Munic.
 11 d'abril, San Juan (Puerto Rico): Es funda la Biblioteca Nacional de Puerto Rico
 17 d'abril - Estats Units: es produeix la primera aparició de Blade, creat per Marv Wolfman i Gene Colan, a les pàgines de The Tomb of Dracula nº 10 de Marvel Comics.
 27 de juny, Uruguai: les forces armades, amb el suport del president constitucional Juan María Bordaberry Arocena, prenen el control del país. Té lloc el cop d'estat d'Uruguai i comença la dictadura cívico-militar (1973-1985).
 3 de juliol, Hèlsinki (Finlàndia):Inici de la Conferència de Hèlsinki, o Conferència sobre Seguretat i Cooperació a Europa(CSCE), celebrada a Hèlsinki entre el 1972 i el 1975, era hereva del Tractat de Seguretat Col·lectiva a Europa, firmat a Moscou el 1954.
 11 de setembre, Xile: Cop d'estat de l'11 de setembre de 1973, les forces armades dirigides pel general Augusto Pinochet prenen el control del país; el president Salvador Allende mor al Palacio de la Moneda.

Còmics i literatura
 Es funda Ediciones Akal
L'autor Go Nagai començà a publicar la sèrie Cutie Honey.

 Es funda CLE International
 Fundació del Banc Nugan Hand
 Estrena de la pel·lícula The Candy Snatchers
 Publicació de la novel·la Da'i-i jan Napoli

Premis Nobel

Naixements

Països Catalans
 13 de febrer, Badalona, Barcelonès: Miguel Poveda, cantaor de flamenc.
 17 de febrer, Taradell, Osona: Lluís Codina Codina, futbolista del Gimnàstic de Tarragona entre altres equips.
 18 de febrer, Badalona: Melanie Olivares, actriu catalana.
 1 de març, Silla, Horta Sud: Andrés Valero Castells, compositor, pedagog musical i director d'orquestra valencià.
 6 de març, Onda, Plana Baixa: Carme Juan, actriu i cantautora valenciana, llicenciada en Art Dramàtic i diplomada en Treball Social.
 18 de març, Cervera: Xavier Puig Ortiz, director d'orquestra i de cor.
 19 de març, Barcelona: Meritxell Batet, advocada i política catalana, ha estat diputada i presidenta del Congrés dels Diputats.
 9 de maig, Alcoi: Gemma Miralles Esteve, actriu, directora escènica, autora valenciana.
 30 de maig, Barcelonaː Marina Garcés, filòsofa i assagista catalana.
 10 de juny, Barcelonaː Natàlia Via-Dufresne Pereña, regatista catalana guanyadora de dues medalles olímpiques.
 14 de juliol, Gavà, Baix Llobregatː Candela Peña, actriu de cinema catalana.
 31 de juliol, Figueresː Helena Tornero i Brugués, autora, directora, professora i traductora de teatre.
 12 d'agost, Barcelonaː Emma Roca, corredora i esquiadora de muntanya, doctora bioquímica i bombera professional.
 28 d'agost, Mallorca: Marta Barceló i Femenías, actriu, guionista, escriptora.
 5 de novembre, València: Isaura Navarro i Casillas, sindicalista, advocada i política valenciana.
 13 de desembre, la Seu d'Urgell, Alt Urgell: Teresa Colom i Pich, poeta i escriptora andorrana d'origen urgellenc.
 Mataró: Blanca Casas Brullet, artista.
Resta del món
 12 de gener, Istanbul, Turquia: Hande Yener cantant, compositora i productora turca.
 30 de gener, Bucarest: Mihaela Ciobanu, jugadora d'handbol d'origen romanès, nacionalitzada espanyola.
 31 de gener, Horsham, Victòria: Portia de Rossi, actriu australianoestatunidenca de televisió i cinema.
 22 de febrer, Madrid: Olalla García, novel·lista i historiadora espanyola
 16 d'abril, Portoviejo, Equador: Teddy Cobeña, escultor figuratiu i d'art contemporani.
 20 d'abril:
Torí, Itàlia: Gabry Ponte, discjòquei italià.
Bakú, RSS d'Azerbaidjan, URSS: Isabel dos Santos, inversora i empresària d'angolesa.
 21 d'abril, Lubango, Portugal: Bárbara Guimarães, periodista portuguesa.
 29 d'abril, Pamplona: Jesús María Serrano Eugui, futbolista del Gimnàstic de Tarragona entre altres equips.
 30 d'abril, Missouri: Akon, cantant i compositor de rap i R&B, amb èxits com Lonely i Blame it on me.
 22 de març, Cali: Julio Ríos Gallego, enginyer
 23 de maig, Xangai: Pauline Chan Bo-Lin, actriu de cinema.
 17 de juny, Villerupt: Aurélie Filippetti, professora, novel·lista, escriptora i política francesa.
 21 de juny, Los Angeles, EUA: Juliette Lewis, actriu i cantant estatunidenca.
 20 de juliol, Ciutat de Mèxic, Mèxic: Roberto Orci, guionista i productor de cinema i televisió mexicà.
 27 de juliol, Teheran, Pèrsia: Cassandra Clare, escriptora iraniana nacionalitzada estatunidenca.
 28 d'agost, Càceres, Espanya: Irene Cardona Bacas, directora de cinema espanyola.
 14 de setembre, Londres, Anglaterra: Andrew Lincoln, Actor britànic.
 18 de setembre, Welkom, Sud-àfrica: Mark Shuttleworth, informàtic, empresari i el primer astronauta sud-africà.
 30 d'octubre:
Silvia Corzo, presentadora de notícies colombiana.
Adam Copeland "Edge", lluitador professional canadenc.
 31 d'octubre, Sellersville, Pensilvània: Beverly Lynne, actriu Estatunidenca.
 4 de novembre, Edmonton, Canadà: Steven Ogg, Actor canadenc i actor de veu.
 29 de novembre, Cardiff, Gal·les: Ryan Giggs, futbolista gal·lès.
 2 de desembre, Novi Sad, Sèrbia: Monica Seles, tennista que va arribar a ocupar el número 1 del rànquing mundial.
 4 de desembre, Los Angeles, Califòrnia: Tyra Banks, model i presentadora de televisió estatunidenca.
 20 de desembre, Salim Chartouni, futbolista
 Tolosa, Llenguadoc: Vanessa Alice Bensimon més coneguda pel seu sobrenom Miss Van, artista pictòrica instal·lada a Barcelona.
 Bagdad, Iraq: Abbas Khider, escriptor

 Ahmed Saadawi novel·lista, poeta, guionista i realitzador de documentals iraquià.

Necrològiques
Països Catalans
 17 de gener:
 Castelló de la Plana: Juan Adsuara Ramos, escultor valencià (81 anys).
 València: Salvador Carreres Zacarés, historiador valencià (90 anys).
 22 de gener, Sabadell, Vallès Occidental: Joan Puig i Pujol, escriptor i polític català (81 anys).
 31 de gener, Saragossaː Zoe Rosinach Pedrol, farmacèutica lleidatana, primera doctora en Farmàcia de l'Estat (n. 1894).
 22 de febrer, Hytheː Elisabeth Bowen, escriptora irlandesa en llengua anglesa (n. 1899).
 16 d'abril, Tarancón, Conca: Nino Bravo, cantant melòdic valencià (28 anys).
 20 d'abril, Barcelonaː Consol Pastor Martínez, bibliotecària catalana, de la primera promoció de l'Escola de Bibliotecàries (n. 1887).
 19 de maig, Ciutat de Mèxic: Carles Parès i Guillèn, metge cirurgià català (65 anys).
 20 de maig, Madrid: Joaquim Bau i Nolla, primer comte de Bau, fou un advocat, comerciant i polític català (n. 1897).
 2 de juny, Barcelona: Consol Tomàs-Salvany i Claramunt, pintora catalana (n. 1883).
 10 de juliol, Barcelona: Montserrat Alberich i Escardívol, artista mecanògrafa.
 24 de juliol, Perpinyàː Balbina Pi i Sanllehy, dirigent anarcosindicalista catalana (n. 1896).
 23 d'agost, Huelva, Andalusia: José Nogué Massó, pintor català (93 anys).
 28 d'agost, Exeter: Margarida Comas i Camps, biòloga (n. 1892).
 1 de setembre, Roma: Graziella Pareto, soprano coloratura barcelonesa (n. 1889).
 2 de setembre, Barcelona: Tecla Sala Miralpeix, empresària catalana (n. 1886).
 3 de setembre, Praga: Josep Moix i Regàs, secretari general del PSUC, alcalde de Sabadell, director general de Treball i ministre de Treball al govern espanyol (75 anys).
 18 de setembre, Hannover, Baixa Saxònia: Mary Wigman, coreògrafa i ballarina alemanya de dansa expressionista.
 19 de setembre, Santiago de Xile: Joan Alsina i Hurtós, capellà empordanès, assassinat a Xile pel règim de Pinochet (31 anys).
 22 d'octubre, San Juan (Puerto Rico): Pau Casals, violoncel·lista català (96 anys).
 19 de novembre, Barcelona: Cèsar Martinell i Brunet, arquitecte a cavall entre el Modernisme i el Noucentisme (84 anys).
 23 de novembre, l'Hospitalet de Llobregat: Justa Goicoechea, obrera, política catalana i regidora municipal de l'Hospitalet de Llobregat.
 5 de desembre, l'Ametlla del Vallès: Eugeni Xammar i Puigventós, periodista, diplomàtic i traductor català (85 anys).
 8 de desembre, Sabadell: Maty Mont, artista de varietats catalana.
 Exeter, Anglaterra: Margarida Comas i Camps, biòloga (80 anys).
 Benissa: María Luisa Palop, pintora valenciana (n. 1900).

Resta del món
 17 de gener, São Paulo: Tarsila do Amaral, pintora modernista, figura emblemática de la pintura del Brasil (n. 1886).
 22 de gener, Haifa, Israel: Yaakov Dori, primer cap de l'Estat Major de les Forces de Defensa d'Israel el 1948 (n. 1899).
 26 de gener, Bucarest, Romania: Edward G. Robinson, actor de teatre i cinema nord-americà, d'origen romanès (79 anys).
 31 de gener, Oslo, Noruega: Ragnar Frisch, economista noruec guardonat amb el Premi Nobel d'Economia el 1969 (n. 1895).
 11 de febrer, Heildelberg (Alemanya):Johannes Hans Jensen , físic alemany, Premi Nobel de Física de l'any 1963 (n. 1907).
 2 de març, Passy, Françaː Alina Szapocznikow, escultora polonesa, supervivent de l'Holocaust (n. 1926).
 6 de març, Danby, Vermont: Pearl S. Buck, escriptora estatunidenca Premi Nobel de Literatura del 1938 (80 anys).
 14 de març:
Saint Louis, Missouri (EUA): Howard H. Aiken, enginyer nord-americà (n. 1900).
Rochester, Nova York (EUA): George Eastman, fotògraf, inventor, i filantrop nord-americà (n. 1854)
 18 de març, Santa Monica, Califòrnia: Lauritz Melchior, tenor danès nacionalitzat nord-americà (82 anys).
 26 de març,
 Rio de Janeiro: Maria Martins, escultora, dissenyadora, gravadora, pintora, escriptora i música brasilera (n. 1894).
 Blue Harbor, Kingston (Jamaica): Noël Coward autor dramàtic, guionista, compositor, productor i realitzador britànic (n. 1899)
 8 d'abril, Mogins, Occitània: Pablo Picasso, pintor malagueny abanderat del cubisme (91 anys).
 25 d'abril, Lausana, Suïssa: Mahmud Taymur, escriptor egipci i estudiós de la llengua i literatura àrabs (78 anys).
 1 de maig, Vejrum, Dinamarca: Asger Jorn, artista danès (59 anys).

 18 de maig, Camel-by-the-Sea, Califòrnia (EUA): Jeanette Rankin, política estatunidenca, primera dona triada a la Cambra de Representants dels Estats Units (n. 1880)
 21 de maig, Moscou (Rússia): Ivan Kónev (en rus: Ива́н Степа́нович Ко́нев, comandant militar soviètic (n. 1897).
 1 de juny,
 Bergisch Gladbach, Rin del Nord-Westfàlia: Heidi Klum, top model alemanya.
 New Milford, Connecticutː Helen Parkhurst, pedagoga estatunidenca creadora d'un mètode d'ensenyament individualitzat.
 25 de juny, Buenos Aires, Argentina: Rodolfo Sciammarella, compositor argentí (67 anys).
 20 de juliol, Hong Kong: Bruce Lee, actor estatunidenc d'arts marcials (32 anys).
 22 de juliol, Moscou (Rússia): Aleksandr Mossolov, en rus: Александр Васильевич Мосоло́в, compositor i pianista rus de principis de l'era soviètica (n. 1900).
 1 d'agost, Groß Dölln,(Alemanya): Walter Ulbricht ,polític alemany, entre 1950 i 1971 el principal dirigent de la República Democràtica Alemanya (RDA) (n. 1893).
 2 d'agost:
Corbola, prop de Rovigo, Vèneto: Rosetta Pampanini, soprano italiana (n. 1896).
Asolo, província de Treviso, Vèneto, Itàlia: Gian Francesco Malipiero, compositor italià (n. 1882).
 6 d'agost, Marbella, Espanya: Fulgencio Batista, militar i polític cubà, dictador, cap de l'estat de 1923 a 1959 (n. 1901).
 12 d'agost:
Locarno, Suïssa: Walter Rudolf Hess, oftalmòleg i professor universitari suís guardonat amb el Premi Nobel de Medicina o Fisiologia de l'any 1949 (n. 1881).
Mülheim, Alemanya: Karl Ziegler, químic alemany, Premi Nobel de Química de l'any 1963 (n. 1898).
 16 d'agost, Hyannis, Massachusetts (EUA): Selman Abraham Waksman, bioquímic nord-americà d'origen rus, Premi Nobel de Medicina o Fisiologia de 1952 (n. 1888).
 17 d'agost, París (França): Jean Barraqué ,compositor musical francès (n. 1928).
 24 d'agost, Oxford, Anglaterraː Mabel Purefoy Fitzgerald, fisiòloga britànica que estudià la fisiologia de la respiració (n. 1872).
 31 d'agost, Culver City, EUA: John Ford, cineasta conegut pel seu desenvolupament del gènere western (79 anys).
 2 de setembre, Bournemouth, Anglaterra: John R.R. Tolkien, escriptor i filòleg anglès (81 anys).
 11 de setembre, Santiago de Xile: Salvador Allende, president de Xile, mort durant l'assalt al Palacio de la Moneda de l'exèrcit sublevat (65 anys).
 15 de setembre:
 Santiago de Xile: Víctor Jara, director teatral, poeta, cantant i compositor xilè (40 anys).
 Helsingborg, Suècia: Gustau VI Adolf de Suècia, rei de Suècia de la dinastia Bernadotte (n. 1882).
 23 de setembre, Santiago de Xile: Pablo Neruda, poeta, premi Nobel de Literatura, i diplomàtic xilè (69 anys).
 26 de setembre, Romaː Anna Magnani, actriu italiana (n. 1908).
 4 d'octubre, Redding, Connecticutː Anna Hyatt Huntington, escultora nord-americana i mecenes de les arts (n. 1876).
 17 d'octubre, Roma: Ingeborg Bachmann, escriptora austríaca (n. 1926).
 27 d'octubre, Pontrilas, Herefordshire: Norman Allin, cantant d'òpera de la corda de baix (88 anys).
 11 de novembre:
 San Francisco, Califòrnia: James Edward Abbé, fotògraf nord-americà (90 anys).
 Hèlsinki (Finlàndia): Artturi Ilmari Virtanen, químic finlandès, Premi Nobel de Química de 1945 (n. 1895).
 13 de novembre,
 París: Elsa Schiaparelli, dissenyadora italiana que va dirigir una casa de moda a París (n. 1890).
 Darmstadt, Alemanya: Bruno Maderna, compositor i director d'orquestra italià (53 anys).
 25 de novembre, Londres: Laurence Harvey, actor, director, productor i guionista britànic (45 anys).
 20 de desembre, Madrid, Espanya: Luis Carrero Blanco, president del govern espanyol, assassinat amb una bomba pel grup terrorista ETA (69 anys).
 Saragossa: José Ramón Arana, escriptor espanyol considerat un dels millors narradors de l'exili en llengua espanyola
 Madrid: María del Pilar Fernández Vega, conservadora de museus espanyola.(n. 1906).
 Barcelona: Suzanne Davit, artista i il·lustradora científica d'origen francès (n. 1897).

Referències


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Guest Post: Not-So-Civil War, or Embracing Polyfan...
Egg and Spoon by Gregory Maguire (Reviewed by Josh...
GUEST BLOG: Crafting Fantasy from Myth by Mark Tom...
GUEST POST: Life in the Weird: On the Blending of ...
GUEST BLOG: Writing in a Different Question Palett...
Introducing SPFBO II by Mark Lawrence & Various Bl...
GUEST BLOG: The Art of the Mash-Up (How Colliding ...
GUEST BLOG: Exploring Character Development in Fan...
GUEST BLOG: Writing in a Different Question Palette, or Why Add the Fantastic to my Science Fiction? by Ada Palmer
Visit Ada Palmer's Website Here
Fantasy Book Critic is extremely excited to welcome debut author Ada Palmer to our blog today. Ada Palmer is the author of the futuristic science fiction novel, Too Like the Lightning, which was released May 10, 2016 by Tor Books.
Ada Palmer stops by today to writing in a different question palette. She shares amazing insight into her novel and the writing process.
About Too Like the Lightning:
Tor Books is proud to launch the first novel in a new political science fiction series, Too Like The Lightning by debut novelist Ada Palmer. Palmer's unique vision mixes Enlightenment-era philosophy with traditional science fiction speculation to bring to life the year 2454, not a perfect future, but a utopian one, described by a narrator writing in an antiquated form to catalog the birth of a revolution. The result is The Iliad meets I, Claudius mixed with the enthusiasm of The Stars My Destination and Gene Wolfe style world building.
Mycroft Canner is a convict. For his crimes he is required, as is the custom of the 25th century, to wander the world being as useful as he can to all he meets. Carlyle Foster is a sensayer–a spiritual counselor in a world that has outlawed the public practice of religion, but which also knows that the inner lives of humans cannot be wished away.
The world into which Mycroft and Carlyle have been born is as strange to our 21st-century eyes as ours would be to a native of the 1500s. It is a hard-won utopia built on technologically-generated abundance, and also on complex and mandatory systems of labeling all public writing and speech. What seem to us normal gender distinctions are now distinctly taboo in most social situations. And most of the world's population is affiliated with globe-girdling clans of the like-minded, whose endless economic and cultural competition is carefully managed by central planners of inestimable subtlety. To us it seems like a mad combination of heaven and hell. To them, it seems like normal life.
And in this world, Mycroft and Carlyle have stumbled on the wild card that may destabilize the system: the boy Bridger, who can effortlessly make his wishes come true. Who can, it would seem, bring inanimate objects to life…
Perfect for fans of Jo Walton, Robert Charles Wilson and Kim Stanley Robinson, Too Like The Lightning is a refreshing change of pace from the current trend of gritty, dystopian novels. Much like Homer telling of heroic deeds and wine dark seas, Mycroft Canner's narration will draw you into the world of Terra Ignota—a world simmering with gender politics and religious fervor just beneath the surface, on the brink of revolutionary change.
A huge thank you goes out to Ada for taking the time out of her day to stop by and share her story with us.
Writing in a Different Question Palette, or Why Add the Fantastic to my Science Fiction?
My new novel Too Like the Lightning has tons of science fiction world building: set in the 25th century, with flying cars, helper robots, genetic engineering, terraforming, futuristic politics, cloned meat, and schoolchildren taking field trips to the Moon. So people keep asking why, in the middle of all that, I chose to add a fantastic element, introduced right at the beginning of the first book, a boy who can—with a touch—bring toys to life. The answer relates to an aspect of storytelling we rarely discuss directly, but that is as formative of story and reader experience as aspects like plot, genre, medium, voice, age group, and mode: a story's question palette.
In 1752 Voltaire—the same firebrand whose pen-mightier-than-swords was galvanizing the Enlightenment—wrote a science fiction short story, Micromegas. In it an alien from a world near Sirius travels to our solar system, where he encounters another alien from Saturn, and they go together to the Earth. At first they think this world is uninhabited, since the Sirian is seven leagues (28 miles) tall, but eventually with effort he perceives what are—to him—tiny insects: first a whale, and then a ship, in which he eventually detects the frantic activity of tiny life forms. With effort he works out human language and First Contact is achieved. So far this could have been written in the 1950s instead of the 1750s, but what do these first interspecies ambassadors talk about at this all important moment? The beneficence of the Supreme Being, whether Aristotle, Descartes, Thomas Aquinas or John Locke offers the best insights into the nature of the Soul, the universality of geometrical reasoning, the role of the Ancient Greek language in philosophical discourse, the strife between the Sultan and the Pope, the theories of Melanchthon and Leibnitz about why God chose to create Evil, whether knowledge derives from Universals or sense perception, and whether or not we can logically deduce the existence of immaterial and intelligent substances.
Voltaire's story has a very familiar plot, but a very unfamiliar question palette, that is the set of hot questions which were on Voltaire's mind in the 1750s and which he used First Contact to explore. Every moment in the history of literature has had a particular question palette, the set of topics which was on the mind of the author and readers. Since Voltaire's is so alien to us it's easy to spot, but we have seen it evolve over the course of twentieth and twenty-first-century science fiction as well. Think of how many aliens we met between the 1950s and 1980s who were in situations very like the Cold War, with vying superpowers. How many utopian and dystopian futures involved extreme forms of communism or capitalism. How different stages of feminism made space colonists on distant planets suddenly more interested in talking about sex and gender. Voltaire's aliens who are ready to plunge into subtleties of Leibnitz vs. Locke aren't any stranger than the alien in Contact, for example, who was intimately familiar with current American debates about whether religious faith is at odds with the scientific mindset, even though such debates didn't take that form a few decades ago, and both Voltaire and his aliens would have been baffled by them.
In writing this new series Terra Ignota, one goal that excited me was to try to write something in a very familiar, classic science fiction future, with flying cars and futuristic cities, but with a different question palette, specifically with Voltaire's question palette. My idiosyncratic and undeniably insane narrator Mycroft Canner is writing a history of events of the year 2454, but chooses to write in an eighteenth century style, insisting that the reader will only understand what he's describing if he uses that peculiar period voice. In the midst of an unfolding mystery, and the grand politics of borderless globe-spanning non-geographic nations, the narrator is constantly plunging into philosophical sides about whether the world is governed by Chance or Providence, the use of 'thee' and 'thou' and 'he' and 'she' (all antiquated terms in his 25th century), and what the apparently supernatural abilities of the boy who can bring toys to life tell us about the aims of Fate and the personality of God. These are not the questions most characters would ask first if they saw someone bring a plastic toy to life, and most books would have the stranger who stumbles on the child's power in the opening chapter use the words "magic" or "paranormal" while I have the discoverer be a professional theologian who jumps right away to "miracle."
This different question palette results in different actions on the characters' parts (Let's run scientific tests and also reread Thomas Aquinas!) but it also lets me ask a whole different set of questions of what I designed to be a very familiar kind of science fiction future. Golden age SF worlds with flying cars and futuristic cities have been interrogated hundreds of times about the big questions of the second half of the twentieth century: superpowers and empire, capitalism and abundance, heroism and the momentum of technological progress, nuclear apocalypse and what would follow it, and race and gender in what is, in older fiction, now a very dated and consequently often uncomfortable way.
A bit later as other voices and events added to this question palette, and such futures started to be interrogated about transhumanism, feminism, post-colonialism and civil rights, libertarian economic theory, the cyber revolution, the singularity, and other topics which are hot now but were unheard-of then, and which add an extra level of alien fascinating when we reread science fiction from fifty years ago and plunge, not only into alien worlds, but into the alien question palettes of their authors.
I wanted to recreate that feeling, to write a novel with an alien question palette, alien in time as 1950 and 1750 are alien to us. I wanted to create a narrator like those Voltaire and Diderot created in whose stories it is often even more delightfully surprising to read how the narration reacts to a strange event as to read the event itself. I wanted to ask anew Voltaire's questions about Providence and theopsychology—that attempting to deduce the personality of God from observing God's creations i.e. nature—because they're such weird, amazing questions, ones we've never asked of our futures of flying cars and glittering towers. My narrator Mycroft Canner tells you, when he first describes this "miracle" that he is mad, and he invites, even encourages, you, the reader, to dismiss his talk of miracles as part of his madness, inviting you to observe his ravings about Providence from a detached distance, as you would observe a specimen in a zoo. Thus my science fiction world ticks on in its science fiction way, but through the narrator, and through the questions he asks, and which others who see the "miracle" ask as a consequence, you get to explore a bunch of very new ways of thinking about an exciting, abundance-filled, golden age type future, and feel as if you're somehow reading historical fiction and science fiction at the same time. We know what someone who thinks like Voltaire and his Enlightenment buddies would deduce about the nature of Providence from observing 1752, but what would such a philosopher/scientist deduce from observing 2454? That is a new question altogether, one I can only ask by mixing one part science fiction, one part historical fiction, and a dash of the fantastic.
Ada Palmer is the author of the recently released sci-fi novel Too Like the Lightning and a professor in the history department of the University of Chicago, specializing in Renaissance history and the history of ideas. Her first nonfiction book, Reading Lucretius in the Renaissance, was published in 2014 by Harvard University Press. She is also a composer of folk and Renaissance-tinged a capella music, most of which she performs with the group Sassafrass. Her personal site is at adapalmer.com, and she writes about history for a popular audience at exurbe.com and about SF and fantasy-related matters at Tor.com.


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HomeMilton/HaltonRaitt Listens to Milton Businesses on Proposed Tax Reforms
Raitt Listens to Milton Businesses on Proposed Tax Reforms
September 14, 2017 Laura Steiner Milton/Halton 0
Members of Milton's business community packed a classroom at the Milton Education Village Monday night. They were there to voice their concerns over proposed tax changes by the Trudeau government. The event was co-hosted by Milton MP Lisa Raitt, and the Milton Chamber of Commerce. Raitt stepped up, and introduced the topic, before handing it over the business owners themselves.
The changes include an end to what is known as income sprinkling. It's the practice of spreading income among family members. Melissa Coulson is a local accountant employing 12 people. She questions the government's ability to enforce. "New rules will make it worse," she said.
Other proposed reforms include changes to passive income ( the money business owners can put into business). Ontario Medical Association (OMA) President Dr. Shawn Watley believes this change is going to be negative. "This will have a disastrous effect on Doctors not only in this province, but across the country. For doctors, this could mean less equipment, and less staff. "Healthcare in Ontario will be affected. If you come after doctors, it will affect patient care." Milton MP Lisa Raitt said.
The federal government is doing this on a 75 day consultation period, which ends with October 2, 2017. "Why are we having such a short consultation period?" Raitt asked. Many who attended the meeting believe extending the consultation period would be counted as a victory.
Ontario is introducing labour changes that include an increase in the provincial minimum wage, as well as introducing paid sick time for all workers. The combined impact of federal, and provincial changes is so far unknown. "There's no economic impact on any of this," Raitt said in an interview.
Finance Minister Bill Morneau recently made an appearance on CBC Radio. "He admitted, they don't know how much money it's going to take in (to government accounts), which means they have no idea how much money this is going to cost and that's scary," Raitt said. The Conservatives have not done any estimates.
The changes touch on every sector of the economy. "If you were at the town hall tonight, what you would be worrying about farmers, and whether or not they would be able to have their children work in their farms. You would be worried about kids getting their first jobs, like at Tim Hortons, where although they will be seeing an increase in minimum wage; what they are going to be seeing is an increase in their benefits. What they are going to be seeing is having to pay for their own uniform." Raitt said. Raitt continued lamenting the effects on customers. "It always ends up trickling down to the consumer," she said.
There is a rally coming up outside Bill Morneau's constituency office October 1, 2017. Petitions are circulating as well, including one from a group called: Concerned Patients of Canada.
Consultation period federal tax changes October 2 2017
Deputy Leader of the Opposition Lisa Raitt
Dr. Shawn Watley OMA
Federal tax changes Canada
Finance Minister Bill Morneau
Laura Steiner
Lisa Raitt Town Hall federal tax changes corporations
Milton Chamber of Commerce
Milton MP Lisa Raitt
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MANILA: Eight women died in the Philippine capital on Friday as a fire engulfed a building in which they had been locked in by their employer, police said.
Eight other women survived the blaze by climbing to the roof of the two-storey building and jumping off, said police officer Cris Gabutin, an investigator in the case.
"They said the gate was locked. It was dark and they could not find a way out. It was a lucky thing they were able to get out to the roof and jump," Gabutin said.
The bodies of the eight other women were found sprawled in one room, Gabutin said.
"It was like they were trapped. Maybe they panicked and could not find their way out," he said. Gabutin said six of the dead women identified so far were aged between 19 and 24.
A neighbourhood watchman in the middle-class residential area where the fire occurred, Jayvee Arizapa, said neighbours saw the women leaping from the roof.
"We could also hear people screaming for help inside but we could not help them because the wall was too high," he said.
The women were all from rural areas who had been brought to Manila to work in a warehouse storing electronic products and computer disks, according to Gabutin. He said they were sleeping in a building next to the warehouse when the fire started just after midnight.
He said the cause of the fire was unknown but police had arrested the owner of the building, charging him with human trafficking, negligence resulting in homicide and operating a business in the area without a license.
It is a common practice in the Philippines for low-paid employees to sleep in their place of work.
Employers typically do not provide enough safety measures for their staff, and some are known to lock them in to stop them stealing or prevent socialising.
Seventeen workers died in the southern Philippines in 2012 when a fire burnt down a department store in which they were sleeping.


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The Soirée Française
A French Evening was organised by Prep School and Senior School jointly
The Soirée Française was held on the 14th of January 2017. This Senior School event was organised by Prep School and Senior School jointly this year. Rehearsal started on the 2nd of January, during the winter vacations. There were eight participating schools and colleges for the poetry recitation competition, competing in two categories, 11 to 16 year olds and 17 to 21 year olds. Aitchisonian, French Club boys entertained the audience in between the recitals with songs, dances and skits.
Our Prep School boys enthralled the audience with a lively group song, entitled, "Le vent dans les voiles," (The wind in the sails). Mian Farid Said and Mominn Nabeel Nawaz performed a heart-warming dialogue between a penguin and his mother. The penguin dreams of discovering the world of colours and to meet up with the jungle animals; (for everything around him is black and white). Last but not least, Rayaan Mirza sang a solo jazzy number to thunderous applause, entitled "elle me dit," (she told me) about a mother's anxious advice to her son.
Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française Soirée Française


For our second daughters nursery we wanted a preppy/nautical feel, so we decided to go with navy and pink for our color scheme. She is still sleeping in our room so we don't have her changing station set up in her room yet.
Our inspiration was nautical colors without the literal translation of anchors and such. We were on a budget so we reused some pieces from our older daughters room who is now almost 3 and in a big girl bed.